


Two Hands

by Clefaiiiry



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Bloodhound has two hands, Fanfiction of Fanfiction, Fix-It, Fluff, Flustered Hound is best Hound, Other, Polyamory Negotiations, brief angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-13 04:17:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18461303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clefaiiiry/pseuds/Clefaiiiry
Summary: Alternate Title: Nina is still not over Chapter 23 of Mirage: An Optical Illusion Caused By Atmospheric Conditions and so took matters into their own hands.Alternate Alternate Title: Armann never died, fuck you. Look, he's right there, alive and happy.





	Two Hands

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Mirage: An Optical Illusion Caused By Atmospheric Conditions](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17872142) by [TerokNor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerokNor/pseuds/TerokNor). 



> So if you haven't read [Mirage: An Optical Illusion Caused By Atmospheric Conditions](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17872142) first of all, you should, second of all, this fic desperately needs context so preferably go read Optical Illusion first, then come back.
> 
> A'ight? A'ight.
> 
> Bloodhound is referred to as both Bloodhound and Atli, just to save any confusion.

“What if he doesn’t like me?” he asked, triple checking that he’d disabled every trap in the landing zone.

“Do you love me?” Atli asked, glancing up from their communicator.

“What kind of a question is that? Of course I do!”

Atli laughed, a sound he never got tired of, even after all these years. “Then he’ll love you. You needn’t worry, my beloved.”

“I’m not worrying,” he lied.

He felt them approach from behind, butting their head into his shoulder. “You’re still a terrible liar.”

Armann had no time to respond before the roaring engines of the approaching ship became too loud to ignore. Atli smiled down at their communicator and leaned into his side.

Armann had suffered ravenous grimmur, frostbite, starvation, and torture at the hands of the IMC and Apex Predators alike, yet somehow the prospect of meeting his partner’s boyfriend was the most terrifying thing he’d ever been subjected to.

 

* * *

 

 

It wasn’t their first time attending the Apex Games, but that didn’t stop his mother hen instincts from going into overdrive.

 _Atli is an adult, they can take care of themself,_ he reminded himself, but it didn’t make him feel any better.

He helped them fold everything into their rucksack without protest, because these games were too valuable to give up once they had started.

“I know we’ll be apart for some time,” Armann said as Atli slung their pack over one shoulder, “so if you wish to seek anyone to… share your bedrolls with, I will not be offended.”

Atli stared at him as if he had grown multiple heads. “I would never dream of such a thing. I only need you, my beloved.”

“If you will let me, then I don’t see why I can’t agree to let you do the same.”

Atli sighed at that. “I chose not to pursue such needs while in the games, but if you insist.”

Armann laughed and took them in his arms, raising his chin to prop it on their head. “You get way too pent up when I’m not around. Makes you lose focus in the ring.”

They scoffed. “I never lose foc-”

Armann took the opportunity to kiss them, soft and careful. They huffed against his lips, but kissed back, brushing a gloved hand through his hair.

When they pulled away, they were flushed, scowling with an adorable little pout. He wanted to kiss them again, but unfortunately their time was not infinite.

“Stay safe,” he said as they pulled away.

“I am always safe.” Atli took their mask, clipping every little component into place with practised ease.

“You and I both know that isn’t true.”

They were quiet for a moment, then beckoned Muninn to their shoulder. “Maybe so,” Bloodhound said.

 

* * *

 

 

Armann knew, logically, that the possibility of death was very high in a blood sport like the Apex Games. Atli had been very blunt about it when they had first considered entering. But Armann had been confident that, after everything they had fought and won against, a little bit of gunplay would be nothing.

And it was, until it wasn’t.

There was something different about these games. Armann could tell as much as he watched from their hideout, even with the shoddy signal that he had to fix manually every hour or so. Bloodhound had been teamed up with Caustic and a fresh face named Mirage. Their teamwork with Caustic had been almost terrifying last year, so Armann was certain they would win again.

Mirage, however, was an unexpected variable.

The Apex Commentators were more interested in the blood and guts spraying everywhere than the melancholy bonding between two competitors, but as the squad numbers dwindled, they began to spin a woeful narrative between them.

_“Is the mysterious, ruthless Bloodhound really going soft for some nobody in his first game?”_

_“Love will certainly change a person! Even someone as cutthroat as Bloodhound!”_

Armann had laughed at that. Bloodhound was just guiding the poor man through his first game by necessity. Leaving a squadmate behind was not only dishonourable, it was just a foolish way to play the game.

It was business.

Just business.

At least, that’s what he thought, until Atli began to bare their soul to him.

It shouldn’t have bothered him, but it gnawed at his gut like a persistent dog.

Then he saw how Atli’s lips twitch at his stupid jokes, how the tension melts from their shoulders, how their touches linger for just a moment too long.

 _"Go to sleep before you say something you'll really regret,"_ they said, the tinny audio almost muffling their voice entirely. One would think an event funded as well as the Apex Games could afford to record every area just as well as the rest. The Game Masters skillfully chose angles that would hide their face, maybe showing a tuft of hair here or an inch of skin there, but denying their entire face from the viewing public.

Mirage was muttering, probably something stupid from how Bloodhound tensed their shoulders. The same way they would whenever Armann told a dumb joke that they would laugh at anyway.

He’d fallen asleep in Bloodhound’s lap. They hadn’t quite known what to do with him, but they still chose not to move him. He wasn’t just a squadmate anymore. Something swelled in Armann’s chest.

 

* * *

 

 

Armann cheered loud enough to wake their ravens as Bloodhound landed a particularly beautiful shot right through another competitors head. By the look on his face, Mirage was just as impressed. He has only a few seconds to gaze dreamily at their sniper perch before he was being shot at again.

There were only three squads left, but the standoff could last for hours. Armann only left briefly to calm their ravens, but when he came back there was a dirty brawl playing out on screen.

There are knives and fists and blood, and Armann couldn’t take his eyes away for a second.

Even as Wraith kicked them from the roof.

Even as they crashed into the ground with a sickening crunch.

Even when they stopped moving.

“Come on,” he whispered, clenching his fists, “get up, Atli.”

But they don’t move, not until Mirage landed with a thud beside them and pulled off their mask, taking their face in his hands. Whoever was in charge of the camera decided not to show their face again. Keeping the mystery alive even as they bled out.

_"Bloodhound? Bloodhound, I have a med kit, I have-!"_

Bloodhound took his wrist, ordered him to leave, to get away before the ring closed.

_“You'll be ok, do you hear me? You'll be ok."_

They wouldn’t be. Even with all the modern advancements in medicine and technology, they wouldn’t survive this. Armann couldn’t breathe, he could only watch as Mirage- no, _Elliott_ , his name was Elliott, desperately babbled and sobbed, clutching them so impossibly close-

_"I can't let you die. Not again."_

Atli kissed him, right there in the open, not caring who could see. It’s brief, but as they pulled away, Armann couldn’t stop the tears that burned his eyes.

_“I… can’t say goodbye to him... but I can say goodbye… to you.”_

 

* * *

 

 

When Armann arrived at the Apex Medical Facility, he was overcome with a crushing sensation of dread. What if he was only here to pick up a corpse? What if they wouldn’t even let him in at all? It wasn’t like he had any ID.

The receptionist grew more and more exasperated the longer he stayed. “We don’t allow visits from non-family members, I can’t make any exceptions.”

“I’m their life partner.”

“I’m sorry, _sir_ , but if we can’t confirm your identity, we can’t let you-”

“Hey, urh, excuse me?”

They both jerked at the familiar voice. Elliott Witt looked much less glamorous than Armann would have expected for a Champion of the Apex Games, but even with all his bruises and bandages, he looked prepared for whatever else the world was ready to throw at him.

“I was waiting for you to show up, Armann.”

 

* * *

 

 

Elliott explained the situation, what had happened in the ring after the cameras were cut and the game ended, how he’d nearly thrown hands with the hospital staff to keep Bloodhound on life support, and that his brother had come in to save the day with technology that Armann didn’t understand. Armann only nodded along, his chest going warm, pleasantly numb.

Atli was okay. They were going to be okay.

He started crying.

“H-Hey, whoa, okay, you’re hugging me now, wow.” Elliott rubbed his back awkwardly, eyes darting everywhere but the near-stranger who was sobbing into his shoulder.

“Thank you.” Armann clutched the smaller man to his chest. “Thank you for saving my Atli, Elliott.”

Elliott chuckled, pulling at his collar, going pink in the face. “It wasn’t me, Warren did all the work. Besides, Bloodhound saved my ass enough times in the ring, I was only-”

Armann grabbed him by the shoulders. “You saved Atli, and for that I am forever in your debt.”

“Don’t say it like that, it’s embarrassing,” he muttered, but the little smile that cracked his features told Armann everything he needed to know.

 

* * *

 

 

Armann was limited to how much time he could spend at Atli’s side. The nurses insisted that Bloodhound needed their rest, but he still lingered in the hallway, sleeping in the stiff plastic chairs and eating from the vending machines in the cafeteria.

He wished to speak more with Elliott, but the man was seemingly terrified of him. He had a great talent for making himself scarce whenever Armann entered a room.

 _Holographic Trickster_ was certainly an accurate title, it was like trying to catch one of his decoys.

Perhaps it was because of the moment of closeness he’d shared with Atli in the ring. Armann honestly didn’t blame him; it wasn’t the easiest conversation to start:

_‘So hey sorry about kissing your partner when they thought they were gonna die, no hard feelings, right?’_

Warren Witt, whose technology saved his beloved’s life, caught his attention in the cafeteria with a gentle prod.

“You look pensive,” Warren said, helping himself to the coffee machine even though it, quote, ‘tasted like stale urine.’

“What can you tell me about your brother?”

Warren stilled. He’d brushed a nerve, overstepped, but before he could apologise, Warren responded.

“He’s immature, stubborn, frustrating, reckless, completely moronic, but... he’s still my brother.” Warren looked away. “He’s… the only brother I have left. If he’s willing to start over and repair those bridges, then so am I.”

“He’s family,” Armann said. “Consider yourself blessed to still have him.”

Warren chuckled and even though the sound was weak, it felt genuine.

“He’s completely smitten with your friend, you know.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I know, right? You’ve got some competition.” His communicator buzzed on his arm. He glanced to the screen and frowned. “Sorry, I have to take this.”

 

* * *

 

 

Atli’s recovery went smoothly. They were an agreeable patient, happy to smile and nod at anything the doctors offered them. Anything to get out faster.

The day they were given the all clear, they gathered their possessions and wasted no time heading straight to the lobby where Armann was dozing. He awoke with a start as they dragged him to his feet.

“Aren’t you going to say goodbye to Elliott?” Armann asked as they took his hand and led him away. They didn’t respond. They just kept walking.

They were quiet, more so than usual. They were silent for most of the journey back to Molven, only occasionally responding with a hum or a softly spoken question.

Armann usually would not have been concerned; competing in the Apex Games left them exhausted both physically and emotionally, but right now he was fretting. He was good at that, Atli often told him.

He didn’t press, not until they were back in their hideout, not until Atli had greeted the new hatchlings and tended to their little indoor garden, not until they were safe in their nest of furs and blankets.

They had made love, slow and passionate and everything Atli desperately needed, clutching to him so tightly that they left dull red marks in his back. He held them in the afterglow, kissing every scar, every freckle, smiling as they giggled against his touch.

Atli was here and alive and that was all he needed.

But the question still gnawed, bothering him even in moments that were meant to be theirs.

“Do you love him?” He asked.

Atli was quiet for a while, trying to hide themself in his chest. “I… I don’t know,” they finally admitted, “I don’t know if I love him.”

“I don’t mind if you do,” Armann said, tucking some hair behind their ear. “I don’t blame you. He’s pretty hot, not gonna lie.”

“There’s more to love than just physical attractiveness. He’s also witty, and dedicated and-”

Armann chuckled. “So you _do_ love him.”

They glared up at him. “It’s just the post-game high. It will pass.”

“It’s been weeks, it would have passed by now. I know you’re fond of him, so why not allow yourself to explore it?”

Atli recoiled, as if they had been struck. “I will not betray you for a man I barely know!”

Armann sighed, taking their face in his hands and pressing a soft kiss to their forehead. “You could never betray me, my dearest.” He smirked and pressed their noses together. “If you truly love him, I will be happy to share. You have two hands.”

Atli laughed, pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. “You aren’t wrong.” They linked their fingers with his, savouring the warmth. “I do, indeed, have two hands.”

“When you are ready, go to him.” Armann squeezed their hand. “I can hold this one, he can hold the other.”

 

* * *

 

 

Even with his blessing, it has taken Atli some time to finally go to him. That night, they returned with their many layers notably disheveled and bruises covering their neck.

“Didn’t think you’d be into that,” Armann had said.

“Be quiet,” they had grumbled, refusing to make eye contact for the rest of the day.

It had been months since then, even longer before Atli had felt confident enough to introduce them properly.

So there he stood, waiting for the doors of the shiny new personal cruiser to slide open.

Elliott Witt looked so much better when he wasn’t high on every kind of painkiller available. He’d had his hair cut and was less sickly pale than he had been. The bullet and stab wounds had healed up without any complications that Armann could see.

A grin cracked over his handsome face and he broke into a run. Atli met him in the middle and bundled him into their arms. They held each other tightly until Armann approached.

“It’s good to meet you under less dire circumstances,” Armann said, clapping his shoulder with enough force to make him briefly stumble.

Elliott tried to puff up his chest, but the effect was somewhat underwhelming given the five or so inches Armann still held over him.

“Hi- Hello, how are you?”

Oh, poor guy, Armann could _feel_ the inward cringe at that one.

Armann chuckled. He scooped Elliott up in a bone-crushing hug. Elliott squeaked as he was swung around and plonked back down with a little ‘oof.’

“My apologies, formality was never my strong suit.”

Atli’s giggle was enough to melt the tension from Elliott’s frame. They pressed a kiss to his cheek and took his hand.

“Hello, Elliott.”

He gave a little dopey smile. “Hey Pup.”

Armann raised an eyebrow. “Pup?”

Atli looked away, scratching the back of their head. “It’s a nickname.”

“It’s cute,” Armann teased, “Pup.”

Atli shushed him, but reached for his hand anyway. Once they held both, they simply stood there between them, swinging their arms childishly.

“Having fun?” Armann asked, swaying his arm with them.

The biggest, goofiest grin he’d ever seen crossed their face. “Yes.”

“Oh my God, I love you.” From the look on his face, Elliott had not intended to say that out loud.

Atli turned his way and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, then they did the same for Armann. They were truly content, more so than they had been in years, and if that wasn’t an insult to everyone who had ever wanted them dead, then they would have to work even harder.

Armann looked to Elliott, side glancing to Atli. Elliott took a moment to process, a cheeky little smirk spread over his features.

The second Atli closed their eyes, taking in the moment, they struck. Both men pressed a kiss to their cheek and Atli was left gaping, going so red they looked ready to faint.

“Love ya babe-”

“I love you, Atli-”

Atli typically considered themself a rather cool and collected individual, but their brain short circuited, leaving them unable to do anything but cover their face and whine.

_What a terribly brilliant idea this had been._

**Author's Note:**

> TerokNor: Armann is dead.  
> Me, rolling up my sleeves: Not if I have anything to say about it.
> 
> Just assume that the timelines are the same up until the IMC Facility wherein Armann and Bloodhound don't kill anyone important when they need uniform and manage to get away all happy and un-murdered. How does the rest of the timeline work after that point? Eh, details.
> 
> The burn here is not slow because I am impatient. We're burning dry paper in the desert, that's how fast this burn is.
> 
> Thanks again to JaydenDSin for putting up with my nonsense as always and helping me proof this very self indulgent mess.  
> And a thank you to TerokNor for writing a fic that legit made me stay up until 6am while sick just so I could finish binging it in one sitting.
> 
> Edit: I should have caught any and all tense inconsistencies. You can thank Google Docs for that. IT IS THE **WORST.**  
>  Edit 2: I want you all to know that the WIP name for this was "i will give armann a happy ending myself if i have to"


End file.
